Mourn Later
by LoriEchelon
Summary: The members of New Directions, along with the rest of the town and the world, find themselves in the middle of a Zombie Apocalypse. Rated for violence, gore, plenty of character death and all other good things that come with the un-dead.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So, I have a slight obsession with Zombies, and of course, Glee. And while watching The Walking Dead season 2 premiere Sunday night, I thought….what would the New Directions do in the event of a the inevitable Zombie Apocalypse? And this was born. Not sure where it's going, I'll see if anyone's interested before continuing. If people seem interested enough, chapters will get longer, this is just a sort of test .Although I'm so excited to write this and already having fun with it, so I may continue it no matter what._

_But for now, warnings for violence and gore, of course. There will be plenty of major character deaths, sorry. Basically anyone I don't like or can't write or even just feel compelled to will die or become a zombie. As far as canon pairings, the only one that stands true in this fic for now is Finn and Rachel. Everyone else is free game. Most likely there will be eventual Blaine/Puck. In my writings, those two just tend to gravitate towards one another._

_This is __**not**__ a Walking Dead crossover fic, so please don't tell me I'm not sticking to how the zombies are in that show or how things went down in it, I just merely got the idea while watching Walking Dead, and couldn't get it out of my head. So I will write the zombies how I want to, k? K._

_Takes place in about April of the current season, so slightly in the future, and, as always, I take plenty of liberties and ignore storylines I don't like, and I write pretty OOC a lot of the time. If you're still with me, then, please, read on and enjoy, let me know if you'd like me to continue!_

* * *

><p>"Blaine! Puck! Get in!"<p>

Blaine heard the distant sound of Finn's voice, as did Puck, but at the moment both boys were too focused on the task at hand.

"Get down, Puck!" Blaine ignored Finn, aiming his pistol right where Puck was standing. Puck complied, and dropped to the ground as Blaine emptied a clip into the three things that had been mere moments from overcoming Puck. Blaine surveyed the rest of their surroundings to make sure it was safe before jogging over to Puck. "All clear."

Puck grunted a thank you and took Blaine's outstretched hand, jumping back up on his feet lithely.

Kurt's Navigator screeched to a stop next to the pair, and Finn and Kurt jumped out, joining them.

The four took in the sight before them, already desensitized to the gruesome scene that lay exposed on the ground. A body that used to inhabit Sue Sylvester was one of them. Shredded track suit, blood caked into her blonde hair, bare feet covered in gravel and broken glass. And of course, the tell tale signs that it hadn't been Sue in that body for awhile. Blood red eyes, the slightest bit of foam at the corners of her grotesquely torn away mouth, the stiff, jerky movements with which she'd been moving, the fact that her stomach had been ripped open and all her entrails had spilled out and yet she'd still been walking around.

"I feel like someone who'd gone to McKinley longer than a few months should have gotten the pleasure of killing that bitch," Puck grinned, forever trying to lighten the mood with a joke.

Blaine offered back a wry smile, "Sorry, man, next time I'll let the zombies kill you so that the privilege goes to someone who truly deserves it."

"I don't recognize these two," Finn nudged the other two bodies with his boot. Everyone else shook their heads, not knowing either as the silently studied the three bodies, all with identical, perfectly aimed bullet wounds in the middle of their foreheads.

"Doesn't matter much who they used to be. They were zombies now. Shoot first, mourn later," Blaine commented with an edge to his tired voice. "Let's go see if we can find anyone else alive and normal."

Puck threw an arm around Blaine's shoulders. "Great aim, Pretty Boy!" He congratulated as they all climbed into Kurt's car.

Kurt finally spoke up, having been much quieter than normal since the dead had suddenly started to rise and turn others undead as well. "Anyone mind if we go to mine and Finn's house first? See about my dad and his mom?" He couldn't bring himself to say what he really meant. See if his dad was alive, dead or undead. See what's Carole's fate was. So instead he asked it in a way that almost made it sound like the four teenage boys were trying to decide where they should stop first on Thanksgiving Day.

Blaine and Puck nodded wearily from the back, minds on their own families, wondering the same thing as Kurt, but also too afraid to voice their fears of what they would discover.

* * *

><p>It had been in between third and fourth period the day before when things had started to become….weird. Finn, Kurt, Puck and Blaine had been walking together, headed in the general direction of their next classes when they heard a sudden, bone chilling scream, followed b y a gunshot. Instinctively, all four dropped to the floor, along with those surrounding them, which gave everyone a view of what was going on, and it wasn't another Columbine, which had been where everyone's mind had immediately gone. Hell if there was a school that was absolutely primed for another shooting, it was William McKinley High School. But what they saw made them wish it was just a couple of disgruntled teens with guns.<p>

There was a group of what looked suspiciously like zombies lurching down the hall, attacking people, clawing at them, ripping into their flesh with their decomposed teeth.

"No fuckin' way, man," Puck muttered from Blaine's left side. Finn was mesmerized watching the horror, and Kurt looked close to crying.

"We gotta get the fuck out of here. _Now_," Blaine ordered, snapping everyone's attention to him. Finn, Puck and Blaine stood up, immediately drawing attention to themselves from the zombies, but Kurt still sat frozen. Blaine gripped him up, and pulled him none too tenderly behind them as the boys tore out of the emergency exit off the hallway and into the parking lot.

The second they stepped through the doorway, the bright sunlight hit them in the eyes, momentarily blinding them and almost costing them their lives, as one of the walkers reached out to Kurt from the left, and another was quickly approaching them on the right.

Blaine and Puck were the first to react, with Puck clocking the one on the right with a vicious and impressive right hook, and Blaine taking out the one on the left with a Chemistry book in the head.

"Shit," Puck swore, shaking his hand, and looking around for the first time. The boys were surrounded. They could see Kurt's navigator about a hundred feet away but it might as well have been a hundred miles for all the zombies that stood between them and the relative safety the vehicle would offer.

"Now what?" Finn asked nervously as the boys stood frozen, watching hundreds of zombies approach them.

"We run. Knock out anyone who gets near you and we run towards Kurt's car. It's our only chance. Kurt, get your keys ready and do not unlock the vehicle until we are almost at it," Blaine commanded. Kurt nodded, the fear in his eyes reflecting what the other three felt, but they allowed no time for stalling or thinking, as they dashed towards the car.

Finn swung his backpack at the first walker to get in their way, effectively knocking him down, allowing them to hurdle over it, and Puck took care of the next two, sending one flying backwards with a kick to the stomach, landing him directly into the walker behind him. Blaine elbowed the next one in the face, and Kurt stuck his foot out, tripping up yet another, as he fumbled with his keys, frantically searching for the unlock button.

They were almost to the Navigator, when their path was suddenly blocked by one of the things that looked hauntingly familiar.

Kurt gave a strangled cry. "Mercedes! We have to help her, we can't just leave her!"

Blaine, yanked the keys out of Kurt's hand, hitting the unlock button that Kurt hadn't been able to get before opening the back door, and picking up Kurt, all but throwing him in the seat, but when he spoke his voice was much more gentle than his actions. "Kurt, whatever _that_ is, it isn't Mercedes anymore."

Finn jumped in the back next to Kurt, and Blaine crawled over the passenger seat to the driver's side, shoving the keys in the ignition, and starting up the car, already peeling out of the lot before Puck even managed to get his door shut.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: And five months later I finally add chapter 2! And you can all thank Loki Firefox for reminding me that I had left four boys sitting in a car about to get eaten alive by zombies for far too long. Sorry, boys. But look, you're alive! Yay! …For now. Anywys, I promise chapter three will be put up over the weekend, not in August! You'll see that I'm a bit obsessed with guns, too, a bit of an enthusiast if you will, and the gun I give Blaine in the first part of this chapter, is based off of this gorgeous, engraved 2__nd__ Gen Colt SAA, that I would love to buy. And yes, it really does cost that much. _

_If anything is confusing, as far as not lining up with the show, next chapter I will be doing some back stories and clearing up, so just go with it for now, and remember I tend to go OOC and slightly AU. I make no apologies for that. I also will again warn you, the character deaths have only just begun. No one is completely safe, I will kill off who I feel compelled to when I feel compelled to! Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>After miraculously making it to Kurt's car safely, Blaine took off out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell, taking down a few walkers in the process. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the armrest tighter with every thump over the body of someone that just that morning had been a regular, high-schooler like themselves, but now looked like an extra out of some big-budget Hollywood horror film.<p>

"What the fuck? Seriously, what the actual fuck?" Puck asked as Blaine swung the car towards his own house automatically.

"Where am I going?" Blaine asked, completely ignoring Puck.

"Not that way," Finn said helpfully, pointing towards the hordes of undead headed from their right, the direction of the cemetery.

Blaine slowed the car to a crawl, keeping careful watch of their surroundings before addressing Kurt. "Your dad hunt?"

"What? Is now really the time to be concerned with my father's extracurricular activities, Blaine?"

"Jesus. I meant do you guys have guns in the house? Ammo? Knives? Anything?" Blaine rolled his eyes, but phrased his question better.

"Oh. No. When Finn and Carole moved in she made my dad get rid of the handgun he kept for protection."

"All right, then your house loses. Puck? Weapons?" Blaine risked a quick glance in the rearview mirror, where he saw a group slowly making their way towards the Navigator, so he pressed down a little more on the gas.

"Nothing, it's just me, my mom and my sister, so…" He trailed off.

"Fuck, fine. We're going to have to go to my house then, even though it's farther," Blaine swore.

"What? Why? What sense does that make? I'd kinda like to check on my mom and Burt," Finn said from the backseat.

"Which we'll do. As soon as we're armed. And right now, my house is the only one with any damn guns. My dad's a big hunter. You name it, he's got it. Handguns, rifles, shotguns, crossbows, knives even some spears he uses for fishing. Not to mention he has more ammo then he could ever use in his life," Blaine clarified his reasoning, and with a destination in mind began to speed up even more.

All four boys were uncharacteristically quiet on the ride out to Blaine's house, no one really wanting to point out the fact that so far, they hadn't passed another car, or a single person that looked normal.

* * *

><p>Blaine didn't stop until he got in his driveway. With no other cars on the road, he hadn't felt the need to stop at the stop signs or stoplights. He screeched to a halt in front of his parent's Victorian style mansion, located at the end of the cul-de-sac in a ritzy area.<p>

Turning the engine off, he cast a wary look around, checking to see if it was safe to make a run for the front door or not. He wanted to park in the garage, so they wouldn't have to take an unnecessary chance, but being as they were in Kurt's car and not his, the garage door opener wasn't there.

"Okay, the closest," He paused not sure what to call them. "_Thing_ I can see is two houses up. Give me a second to get to the front door and key in the unlock code, then make a run for the house. Just 'cause I don't see any others, that doesn't mean they aren't there," Blaine commanded, jumping out of the vehicle, not giving anyone a chance to respond.

He dashed up the steps, keyed in the code, motioned at them to hurry, and opened the front door, shutting it quickly behind Kurt, who was the last one in.

Once inside, Kurt sank down to his haunches, looking pale and terrified; Puck let out a low whistle, admiring Blaine's house; and Blaine and Finn just stood there completely shell shocked for a minute.

"All right, Richie Rich. Where are all these weapons?" Puck broke the silence.

"C'mon," Blaine turned, heading towards the staircase.

Kurt stood up, albeit it shakily, and pulled out his cell phone as he trudged up the steps behind the others. "No signal," He commented, unnecessarily, sighing and shoving it back into his pocket.

Blaine led them down the hallway to a room that required another code be put in to enter. "I have a little brother and sister," He said by way of explanation. "Mom told Dad either all weapons got locked up, or the left the house completely."

"But you got the code?" Finn asked.

"Well, I'm seventeen. Claire is five and Brock is eight. Plus, I go out hunting with my dad most weekends," Blaine shrugged, as the alarm switched to green and the door unlocked.

"Are you a good shot?" Puck asked as the trooped into the room.

"Pretty decent," Blaine replied, sweeping his hands around the room and immediately eliciting another low whistle from Puck.

"Damn," He muttered. They were literally surrounded by guns. Every type you could imagine, even plenty which didn't actually make sense for hunting, like the GLOCKS that had their own cabinet, or the semi-automatics and submachine guns.

"Dad's a collector, too," Blaine explained. "There's probably close to a million dollars worth of artillery in this room alone."

"Fuck," Puck continued to swear, at a loss for any other words.

Blaine dug around in his pockets, finally producing his keys, and using a small key to open up a couple of the cabinets. He pulled down a couple rifles, handing one to Puck and one to Finn, along with a couple boxes of ammunition. "Know how to load them?" Both boys shook their heads no. Blaine rolled his eyes, "I'll get them all loaded in a minute, just hold onto them for now." He re-locked the cabinet, why he wasn't sure, habit probably, and turned to another one, pulling out a pistol, and another one, yanking free a revolver. Grabbing the correct ammo, he handed the pistol off to, Kurt, and pocketed the ammo for both guns.

Kurt held up the gun he'd been handed between two fingers, letting it dangle delicately, then turned toward Blaine, pouting. "How come I got the smallest, wimpiest looking one?"

"Are you freaking kidding me?"

"Yours looks like a gun straight out of a Western movie, and they both got these big, long things-," Kurt pouted until he was cut off by snickering from all three boys. "Oh, haha, you know I was talking about the guns."

"Kurt," Blaine said, once he'd gotten himself back under control, "Only you would refer to that as a 'wimpy' gun. You're holding a damn GLOCK 23. It's the same gun issued by the FBI to their agents. The same gun the damn US Marshals Service uses. Not to mention, that particular one, is worth close to eight hundred dollars. So quit complaining." Blaine tucked his own gun in the back of his waistband, and motioned for everyone to follow him out of the gun room.

"Well what brand is yours?" Kurt questioned.

"Brand?" Blaine snorted. "It's not a clothing accessory Kurt. It's a Colt Single Action, .45 caliber. Second generation. This particular one is worth close to seven grand. C'mon," Blaine pointed towards another set of steps. "Let's head up a few floors to the attic."

"Why the attic?" Puck asked.

"Because we can see farther, see what's out there," Blaine said over his shoulder, already headed up the steps.

Puck and Finn shrugged and made a move to follow him, but Kurt was still standing behind them, unmoving. "Seriously? A _gun_ is worth seven _thousand_ dollars?" He asked, flabbergasted.

"Okay, I've seen you buy a pair of suspenders for two hundred dollars without blinking," Blaine pointed out.

"Well, yes, but-," Kurt began only to be cut off by Blaine.

"But nothing. We're in the middle of some godamn zombie attack, right now, so tell me. Which would come in more handy? My gun, or your suspenders?"

Kurt didn't answer and they made the rest of the trip up to the attic in silence.

The boys all stepped into the attic, and Blaine walked over to a window that gave a view out of the front of the house, glancing outside and shuddering slightly. There were quite a few people he used to know it seemed, neighbors, people he'd known his whole life now stumbling around, mouths smeared with blood and guts, flesh hanging off, body parts barely attached, hanging off by a thread of skin or missing completely.

"Electricity's out," Puck said pointlessly.

"It can't be, the alarm system worked," Finn commented.

"Back up battery, it'll run for a few hours. Then we're screwed. Which reminds me, I should turn the alarm off before we get locked in my fuckin' house." Blaine backed up some, giving Puck, Finn and Kurt a chance to glance out the window. Kurt got pale again, and backed away, and Finn and Puck were left speechless.

"So what now?" Puck finally asked, turning to Blaine.

"There's too many of them to risk going out right now," Blaine said, thoughtfully, almost talking more to himself than to the others. Eventually he shrugged. "Wait it out here, until there's less of them? Then I'll try and Pull Kurt's car into our garage so we can load it up?"

"Maybe your parents will come home," Kurt spoke up.

Again, Blaine shrugged. "I'm not holding my breath," He muttered.

* * *

><p>Three hours later, and the boys were still waiting in the attic, hoping for a miracle. But none came. If anything there were more zombies in the neighborhood. And they had yet to see one normal person other than themselves.<p>

"All right, new plan," Blaine decided out loud. "Puck, I'm going to go into the garage and open it. When you hear it opening, run outside to the vehicle. I'll stand at the open garage door picking off anything that comes near you."

Puck thought about it for a second. "When you said you were a 'pretty decent' shot, that meant what exactly?" He asked.

"I belong to the NRA and the Civilian Marksmanship Program. I was two and a half he first time I shot a gun, and I'm not talking about a BB gun, either. I'm a certified sharpshooter and marksman in every type of firearm in existence. I never miss my target. Promise," Blaine reassured him.

"All right, then," Puck agreed. "But if you do miss, and I get turned into a walker, just know that I'm coming for your brains first."

* * *

><p>Puck waited at the front door, listening for his cue, which he heard a minute later. He counted to ten in his head, giving Blaine time to make it to the front of the garage before taking a deep breath, praying Blaine wasn't all talk, and dashing out to the Navigator.<p>

True to his word, Blaine didn't miss a shot, expertly picking off every walker who got within a fifty foot radius of Puck, or the open garage door. He hesitated slightly when he noticed one of his targets was a little girl three houses up that often played with his younger sister. He quickly reminded himself though that it was no longer that sweet, innocent little girl, and he took her out with a perfectly aimed shot through the eyes.

Puck made it to the vehicle safely, started it up, and drove it into the garage; Blaine hitting the button to close the door before Puck had even parked completely.

"Well, that was fun," Puck grinned, jumping down from the vehicle.

"Tons," Blaine muttered, still distracted about killing a kid. He tried to forget about as he walked over to where his dad kept all the extra gas cans, giving them an experimental shake. Most of them were empty, which meant they would have to stop by a gas station and fill them up. That could prove to be tricky, but hopefully not impossible. And Kurt still had almost half a tank in the vehicle, anyways.

"All right, let's load up and then venture back out, see if we see any normals," Blaine suggested.

Puck nodded his agreement, and the two went back in the house to gather supplies.

* * *

><p>"Anything else?" Puck asked an hour later, after the car was packed pretty tight.<p>

"Gas cans, enough guns, weapons and ammo to make us look like serious terrorists, blankets, food, water," Blaine walked around the car, checking things off a list the boys had made together. When he was done he looked up. "I think that's all. I left a note in case anyone from my family comes home, so…," Blaine trailed off, still disturbed by the fact that no one had arrived. He wanted to keep hoping, but he had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was the only member of the Anderson family left alive.

Their tentative plan was to head back to McKinley first, and look for signs of life from any of their schoolmates. After that, they would stop by everyone's houses, and Blaine hoped, have time to take quick look around the elementary school in case Claire and Brock were, well, sane.

He decided not to dwell on things he had no way of knowing about, and not to worry about things he couldn't change, and clapped his hands together. "All right, let's go. Kurt?" He questioned, holding the keys out.

Kurt shook his head. "No, thank you. Would you mind continuing to drive?"

Blaine nodded, "Sure," And opened up the driver's side door, climbing in.

Once everyone was in, Finn and Puck with enough guns to supply the US Army in between them in the backseat, Blaine used the extra garage door opener he snagged and stuck on Kurt's visor to open the door, laying on the gas and reversing out fast enough to send Kurt flying back against his seat.

"Sorry," Blaine apologized with a smile, quickly shutting the garage door before anything could get inside. If anyone from his family did make it home, he didn't want them to walk into a surprise attack.

He drove a little less recklessly down his street, since Kurt glared at him and made a big show of buckling his seat belt. The streets were bathed in the early twilight, and instead of everyone sitting in their dining rooms eating dinner, they were wandering the neighborhood, eating each other. There were only a few of the walkers in the middle of the street, and Blaine didn't hesitate to take them out with Kurt's car, choosing to ignore Kurt's wincing each time he did so.

Blaine drove a slightly roundabout way to McKinley, choosing to drive by the local cemetery, his curiosity needing satisfied.

Sure enough, as he drove by it, he all but stopped the vehicle, until he realized how unsafe that was, as a group of zombies began to gravitate towards the car. He drove off at a slightly slower pace, though, all the boys staring out the windows, mouths agape.

"Fuck me," Puck summed it up pretty well from the backseat.

Half the graves had been dug up from the inside, and the other half were still in the process. They could see some of the undead things with arms sticking out through mounds of dirt as they tried to climb their way out.

"Hey Kurt, I know you have a strict non-smoking policy in here, but seeing as we're apparently in the middle of a damn Zombie Apocalypse, I'm lighting up," Blaine informed his friend, pulling a worn pack of Marlboros and a red Bic from his pocket. He shook a cigarette into his mouth, and lit the end, inhaling and exhaling the smoke before Kurt had time to protest.

Puck stuck his hand up for the pack, and followed suit, much to the dismay of Kurt, who was sputtering angrily in the front seat.

"We can roll the windows down if it will make you feel better," Blaine suggested, raising his eyebrows and grinning mischievously.

"I hate both of you," Kurt responded haughtily, sitting back in seat and giving an over-exaggerated cough.

* * *

><p>As Blaine pulled into the lot at McKinley, he saw zombies everywhere, but so far none he recognized. Of course, he hadn't even been here a year yet. He pulled up and idled at the front steps leading into the building. "Game plan?" He asked.<p>

"Splitting up will be the fastest way," Finn offered.

"Is that really smart though?" Kurt questioned.

"Probably not, but Finn's right. All four of us together, it could take hours to cover the school looking for anyone," Puck added.

"Why don't we stick to splitting up into groups of two?" Blaine suggested. "Puck and I will take the downstairs, including the gym and pool, the football field and the front parking lot. Finn and Kurt, you guys take the upstairs including the cafeteria, the lunch tables outside, and the back parking lot."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Okay, everyone has their guns, and plenty of bullets?" Nods from all around. "Everyone remembers how to load them? And use them?" More nodding. Blaine had given a quick instruction while they waited in his attic. "Everyone also has a backup gun, a walkie-talkie tuned to channel 3, and at least one knife?" Again, more nodding. "All right," Blaine said. "Why don't we plan to meet back here in one hour, whether you've searched everywhere or not, and we'll go from there? Kurt, do you have a spare key to this, just in case?"

"Here," Kurt reached in his satchel, pulling one out. Blaine turned off the engine, and pulled the keys from the ignition, trading Kurt his real set of keys, shoved the spare key in his pocket next to the pack of cigarettes and lighter, and took a breath. "All right," He muttered, opening the door before he could talk himself out of it and immediately shooting a walker who turned at the noise.

Everyone else clambered out as well, and they all made a dash up the steps, stopping right outside of the front doors.

"Let's do this," Puck said, looking just a little bit excited about shooting down a few of his less fortunate classmates.

"One hour," Kurt said, looking a little green around the gills.

Finn gave a nervous grin, and then jumped about mile high as Puck got to take his first shot at a walker headed up the steps towards them. He missed.

Blaine sighed, aimed and fired. Gripping the handle of the door, he turned to Kurt and Finn, "Good luck."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Warning for massive amounts of character death in this chapter. Yeah, I kill off about 75% of the cast by the end, so if you don't want to see some of your favorites shot down in cold blood, quit reading. Otherwise, enjoy all the death and zombies and gore! However, by the end of this you will have a better idea of who all will be alive for at least a couple more chapters (no one is completely safe yet) and who all will have a larger role in this story than, well, those less fortunate gleeks I felt it necessary to zombify and destroy. And again, let me reiterate: Blaine is extremely, extremely OOC, I'm very aware of this and it is on purpose._

* * *

><p>"Let's start in the pool," Blaine suggested to Puck, motioning in the general direction of it with his gun.<p>

Puck agreed and began to follow the other boy towards the pool. There were quite a few walkers in the hallways as they made their way, and Blaine didn't hesitate to shoot any he saw. So far, Blaine hadn't recognized any of them, but by Puck's slight hesitation a couple times, he guessed the other boy wasn't as fortunate. Luckily, Puck's aim seemed to improve with every shot he took.

They were almost to the pool when Blaine went to fire and heard an empty clicking sound coming from his gun, signaling he was out of bullets. "Fuck," He muttered, as a zombie headed right at him. He turned to Puck for back up, but Puck was busy with a few of them headed up from the hallway on their left.

Remembering his back up gun he reached behind him to his waistband, but his hand closed around a hunting knife first. He yanked it out, knowing he was as handy with a knife as he was with a gun, and waited until the walker was about a foot from him. With a well practiced motion, he lunged forward, shoving the knife straight through the forehead of a walker dressed in a tattered Cheerios uniform.

"Nice," Puck commented, coming up to him. "That sucks, she was a pretty good lay," He added thoughtfully.

Blaine rolled his eyes, and nodded his head in the direction of a group coming at them. "Take care of them while I reload," Blaine told him, already pulling the bullets from the bag slung over his shoulder.

Puck did as asked, and then switched off on guard duty with Blaine while he reloaded his as well. Both boys figured it was better to have multiple fully loaded guns, so they might as well reload while they had a chance. "Okay," he grunted, when he was finished, signaling they could continue to their destination.

The hallway was littered with dead bodies, and both boys attempted to step around them as much as possible. Although in a situation like this, Blaine sincerely doubted respect for the dead was in order.

They entered the pool, and saw the entire area was pretty empty, aside from a couple stray zombies which both boys quickly took down. The pool itself was free of zombies, and Blaine filed that away in his internal list of things that might come in handy to know. Walkers couldn't swim, and didn't even try to.

There was, however, two familiar people treading water in the middle of the pool.

"Puck! Blaine!" Santana waved her hands over her head, and then she and Brittany started swimming to the side of the pool.

"No!" Blaine said quickly. "Stay there, you're safe."

"Well what do you want us to do? Stay in the damn pool until we starve to death?" Santana snapped.

"No," Blaine shook his head, making a face at her. "Just stay there until we finish looking around the school. Then we'll come back for you. We're here with Kurt and Finn," He added.

"Fine, but it had better not be long, my legs are tired," Santana agreed grudgingly.

Blaine hesitated, and then pulled one of his other guns free, clicking he safety off. "Swim to the side a second," He told Santana, who obeyed. "Here, just in case." He handed her a standard revolver, knowing it was better than a gas-operated semi-automatic, as it would fire even if wet and underwater. That didn't deter him from warning her, though. "Try not to let it get wet, safety's off, if you need it, aim and pull the trigger."

"Thanks," Santana took it from him, and also took the two life rafts Puck drug over, motioning at Brittany, who swam over to join them. Blaine turned and walked away, headed toward the boy's locker room.

"Here," Santana said, giving Brittany one of the life rafts.

"But I know how to swim," Brittany pointed out.

"Obviously," Santana sighed. "This is just so we can take a break from treading water." The two girls kicked back out to the center of the pool, where they held onto the life rafts, and Santana did her best to keep the gun above water level. "Hurry," She told the Puck.

"We'll be back," Puck promised, as Blaine came back from where he'd been checking out the locker rooms.

"All clear," Blaine noted, ushering Puck towards the door, anxious to finish up sweeping the school.

"Hurry!" Santana reminded them one final time as they exited.

"Take guard for a minute," Blaine commanded Puck, no room left in his voice for arguing. Blaine yanked free the walkie-talkie, and held down the talk button. "Finn, Kurt, you there?" He asked, releasing the talk button, and waiting.

"Aren't you supposed to say over or something?" Puck asked, turning in a slow circle, making sure they were still alone in the hallway.

Blaine opened his mouth to respond, but the walkie-talkie in his hand crackled. "Yeah man, what's up?" Finn's voice came through with a good amount of static.

"We found Santana and Brittany, they're fine, we left them in the pool with a gun."

"That is such a weird sentence," Puck commented. Blaine shot him a look, and he pretended to zip his mouth closed.

"Did you find anyone else not, um, okay?" Finn asked, sounding like he didn't really want to know.

"Plenty, but no one from New Directions," Blaine said to the relief of Kurt and Finn both. "You guys find anyone?"

"Not yet."

"All right, we'll check back in a bit," Blaine let go of the button, and shoved the walkie-talkie back in his bag.

"Spoke too soon," Puck muttered at Blaine, gesturing towards a walker headed their way who looked suspiciously like Quinn with another who looked like Artie.

"Well, in case anyone was wondering, this disease cures paralysis," Blaine responded tightly. "Turn away," He told Puck, who looked like he was about to either be sick or punch one of the lockers they were standing near.

Puck didn't hesitate to obey, and squeezed his eye shut, cringing at the two shots that rang out through the hallway, echoing in the deafening silence.

"You okay?" Blaine asked after a second.

Puck just nodded, and with a tired edge to his voice said, "Let's keep going."

They checked in all the classrooms they passed, finding no one else normal, and reloading their guns more than once. They eventually arrived back at the front of the building, with just the office and the gym left before they headed outside. They were trying to decide if they should enter the office or the gym first, and had settled on the office, since the gym led to the locker rooms which exited right onto the foot ball field, when Blaine's walkie-talkie crackled to life.

"Rory and that long haired home-schooled kid who's in the God Squad with Mercedes' and them are down for the count," Finn said in a rough sounding voice.

Blaine pulled out his walkie-talkie, and sighed before pressing down the button to speak. "Joe," He responded. "His name was Joe. Quinn and Artie didn't fare any better," He delivered the news, waiting for a response.

It took a minute, and when the response came it was Kurt's voice. "Okay. We're about to head into the cafeteria, we'll contact you again after that."

The walkie-talkie went silent, and Blaine put it back, placing his hand on the door to the office. "C'mon," He said quietly to Puck.

Puck shook his head, pointing at three walkers almost out of sight in the far end of the office. "If you can bring yourself to kill them, then more power to you. I can't do it," He said in a strained voice.

Blaine followed Puck's finger, and was able to just barely make out the forms of Mr. Schue, Emma, and Coach Bieste.

"Shit," Blaine murmured. With determination, he turned back to Puck. "That's not them anymore. Killing them is the only way to honor them now. You think Mr. Schue would want to know his body was responsible for killing even one person?"

"Since it's so easy for you to do it, then you do it. I already told you, I'm not doing it. I can't kill another friend or classmate or teacher," He responded resolutely.

"Easy?" Blaine let out a humorless laugh. "You think it's easy for me?"

"Well you sure don't seem to be hesitating at all," Puck said angrily.

"Because hesitating could get you or me killed! Or turned! Maybe I find it easier to pull the trigger, even with the knowledge that it will kill whatever's on the receiving end of that bullet, but I've been hunting since before I could walk practically. That doesn't mean I'm enjoying this, it doesn't mean I find it _easy_," Blaine glared at Puck.

"Yeah well you've only been at this school a few months, you don't know most of these people."

Blaine closed his eyes, slowly counting to ten and telling himself shooting Puck was not an option. "Just because my history with these people isn't as…_extensive_…as yours, doesn't mean it's weighing on my conscience any less." Glancing back towards the office than back at Puck, Blaine added, "I'm going in there, and clearing the office out. When I get back, if you're still here, then I'll take that to mean you're with me. If not, good fuckin' luck and leave my guns on the godamned steps."

The tension in the air was thick as Blaine yanked open the door and stomped off. Tempers were rising with every shot someone was forced to fire, and Puck was turning on someone who he knew was only trying to make the best of a bad situation. Again, he tried to block it out as he heard shots ring out, and admitted to himself that Blaine wasn't who he was really mad at. He was more than a little mad at himself, though. He usually had no problem staying calm under extreme amounts of pressure and in any given situation. But this fell out of the normal category by a long shot.

He had made up his mind that it wasn't fair to let Blaine do all the dirty work and was about to head in to help when the door swung open and Blaine came strolling out.

"Gym," Blaine said in a clipped voice, not looking surprised to see Puck there, and turning on his heel, assuming the other boy would follow.

Puck groaned, but hurried to catch up with Blaine's quick stride. "Blaine," He began as they walked through the gym doors.

"Not. Now." Blaine said through clenched teeth with a muttered, "Fuck."

Puck looked up to see what Blaine was talking about and stopped in his tracks. "Jesus H. Christ."

Apparently, the gym was the gathering spot for the majority of students-turned-zombies.

Without saying anything to Puck, Blaine pulled out a MAC-10 from his bag, and the shots rang out, with walkers dropping faster than Puck could count. He raised his eyebrows, impressed, and couldn't help but thinking that this was straight out of _Scarface_.

"Thanks for the help," Blaine said sarcastically when he quit firing long enough to replace the empty magazine box and shove another one in its place.

"Sorry," Puck muttered, as he began aiming and firing, which seemed just a little bit redundant with the rate of rounds per minute Blaine was able to go through using his fully automatic fire, whereas Puck had to cock the gun, aim and pull the trigger with each shot.

After going through two more of his detachable box magazines, Blaine finally quit, and surveyed the damage. They were surrounded by dead bodies and the stench in the room was enough to make both boys pull their shirts up over their noses as they started side-stepping their re-killed classmates, looking for anyone they recognized.

"Puck! Blaine!"

Both boys swiveled around at the sound of their names being called from the direction of the boy's locker room.

"Evans!" Puck said with relief, jogging over and enveloping his friend in a huge bear hug, overjoyed to see another person alive and normal.

"Sam," Blaine acknowledged, joining the other two.

"That was some impressive shit," Sam noted, indicating the gun Blaine still held in his hand.

Blaine gave him a wry smile. "Anyone else….not undead?" Blaine cringed, turning from where Sugar Motta's body lay, full of bullet holes and plenty of telltale signs that she'd been dead before the shooting rampage.

Sam grimaced as well, and nodded towards the boy's locker room with his head. "Rachel's in there. I came out to see what the commotion was, after all that noise you two made brought all the…_things_…away from us. They seem to be attracted to loud noises."

Blaine nodded, filing that away with the whole afraid of water tidbit he'd recently learned.

Puck ran in to find Rachel, and Sam shrugged at Blaine and took off after him. Blaine stayed where he was for a moment, finding the walkie-talkie, and ignoring the bodies of Lauren Zizes, Becky Jackson, and that annoying kid with the afro hair whose name he couldn't think of right now. Jacob something or other, he thought.

"Finn?" He said over the walkie-talkie, getting an instant reply back.

"Yeah?"

"We have Sam and Rachel," Blaine smiled at that, it was nice to deliver some good news finally.

"Rachel? You have Rachel? Put her on."

"She's in the locker room with Sam and Puck, I'll have her radio you in a minute. Will, Emma, Coach Bieste, Principal Fig, and some others are all…um…gone."

"Bu you promise you have Rachel?"

Finn had such a one tracked mind. "Yes, promise. Any luck on your end?"

"Mike and Tina are alive and here with us," Finn replied, and Blaine could hear Tina's voice yelling a wobbly sounding 'Hey Blaine!' In the background.

"Awesome. Listen, I'll have Rachel radio you in a couple minutes, and we'll see you at the truck soon. Send Mike and Tina to the pool with Santana and Brittany, I'm going to do the same with Sam and Rachel until we've finished clearing the building and getting another vehicle. Or two."

"On it," Finn responded, and both boys clicked off for the time being.

Blaine was joined by Sam, Puck and a hysterical Rachel a second later.

"Blaine!" Rachel threw herself at him, overjoyed to see another familiar face that wasn't currently trying to eat her.

Blaine grabbed Rachel up in the hug, no longer caring that he found her annoying for the most part. "Rachel, how are you?"

"Brad the Piano Player tried to eat me! Alive! And he had no arm!"

"Yeah, the world's going to Hell in a hand basket right now," Blaine responded, turning to include Sam and Puck in the conversation.

"Okay, it seems like everyone is accounted for. Finn and Kurt have Mike and Tina. They're sending them to the pool to join San and Brit. Which is where you two are going," Blaine gestured to Sam and Rachel.

"The pool? Why?" Rachel asked, wiping mascara-streaked tears from her eyes.

"Because these zombie things seem to be unable to swim."

"So, who all is alive?" Sam asked, not looking entirely sure he wanted an answer.

"Us four, Finn, Kurt, Mike, Tina, Santana and Brittany. I can pretty much guarantee you everyone else is, um, gone. Mercedes is the only one we haven't come across yet," Blaine tried to put it gently, but there really wasn't a way to.

Sam and Rachel both paled at this, and Blaine turned, calling over his shoulder. "C'mon, let's get you two to the pool."

* * *

><p>They arrived at the pool at the same time as Mike, Tina, Finn and Kurt did. Which was a good thing since first off, Blaine was about to shoot Rachel if she didn't stop squeaking and crying every time he shot a walker, and secondly, he'd forgotten to have Rachel contact Finn. Whoops.<p>

"Finny!" Rachel ran towards her boyfriend the second she saw him and Finn's gun clattered to the ground as he picked Rachel up off the ground in a hug.

"Hey!" Blaine protested. "Treat that thing with some respect." He glared at Finn, picking up the fallen gun and dusting it off with a bit of over-exaggeration.

Finn ignored him for a second to kiss his girlfriend, then took the gun from Blaine with a sheepish smile and a mumbled apology.

Blaine rolled his eyes and steered everyone into the pool area, and then resisted the urge to put his hands over his ears at the commotion of squealing girls, excited to see each other alive.

"In," Blaine pointed towards the pool, continuing his newfound role of leader, since pretty much everyone but Puck had proved almost useless up to this point.

"Hi, Blaine, nice to see you alive as well," Mike laughed, clapping Blaine on the back.

"Yes, it's such a wonderful time for a reunion. In the pool, everyone. And no, Rachel I don't care that it will mess up your hair. I think the brain matter on your leg blows that theory out of the water."

"Ew!" Rachel exclaimed noticing it for the first time, and jumping in the pool immediately to wash it off.

Puck took charge as well, throwing the rest of the lifesavers in the pool, and forcing Sam, Mike and Tina.

"We can help," Mike and Sam argued.

"Either of you know how to shoot?" Blaine asked.

Mike shook his head, but Sam nodded. "Southern boy, remember?"

Blaine nodded, not disputing the fact. "If you see someone you know can you shoot them between the eyes?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe?" He eventually responded in a doubtful voice.

"Well let's wait to find out until we're a little safer than this, huh?"

"I can shoot and I wouldn't mind killing some of the students here," Santana said from the middle of the pool.

"You'll get your chance, can we do this later? Can you all please just wait here until we get back with more cars secured? Anyone happen to have their keys on them and parked relatively close?" No one replied, so Blaine sighed. "All right, guess we'll be finding my car, then." His keys were in the bag somewhere, and he drove a massive Hummer H3 Alpha, and was more than a little excited at the prospect of using it for a mission like it was manufactured for. Every time he attempted to take it off road his dad had a temper tantrum, no matter how many times Blaine pointed out that that was exactly what they were built for. Nothing annoyed him more than when he saw sparkling, squeaky clean, dent and mud free Hummers, Jeeps and other SUVs and off-road vehicles.

_Hummers and Jeeps, _the_ premier vehicle for the Zombie Apocalypse, _Blaine though dryly as he led Finn, Kurt and Puck back towards the front of the school where Kurt's navigator was parked and waiting.


End file.
